Page 36 of Entwined Lies (Entwined #1)

But of course, I wasn’t that lucky. That wasn’t who he was.

He handed me my glass with a smile. “So, what exactly did you say?”

I blinked, watching him over the rim of my drink. “Come again?”

“Enzo mentioned something interesting in the car,” Luca watched me over the rim of his whiskey with an annoyingly smug expression.

“Enzo should learn when to shut up.”

“Maybe.” He took a sip. “But right now, I care more about what you said.”

“Said about what?”

“About me.”

I inhaled deeply.

Okay. Keep it cool. Downplay .

“And if I don’t feel like sharing?” I traced the rim of my glass, glancing up at him.

“Then we discuss your options.”

“God, there are options?”

“Easy way? You tell me exactly what you said.”

I arched a brow. “And the hard way?”

Luca tilted his head. “I take my time figuring it out myself.”

“And by ‘figure it out,’ you mean what, exactly?”

“Let’s just say I’d take my time. Real slow. Real focused. You’d be a trembling, breathless mess when I was done.”

I grinned. “That doesn’t sound like punishment.”

“Then I’ll make it one.”

Before I could fire back, his phone rang.

“This better be fucking important,” he grumbled to whoever was at the other end, shaking his head as he listened.

I had never been more grateful for organized crime in my life.

Because it gave me a solid thirty seconds to get my shit together.

To stop overthinking and remember one very important fact—Luca had fucked me on every possible surface in this house.

Acting shy over something we both damn well knew was true was downright stupid.

I was going to own it.

Make it sexy, even.

I stepped in close, rising on my toes, my lips brushing his free ear.

“To be fair, it was Chrissy who brought it up.”

I trailed a slow finger down his chest.

“My greatest hits—“ I hummed, dragging my nails lightly over his stomach. “You fuck like a god. You’re a walking orgasm factory. And your mouth should be illegal.”

Luca smirked.

I palmed him through his slacks, the fabric doing nothing to hide how hard he already was .

He took a quick, ragged breath.

Good. That was exactly the reaction I wanted.

“I used to think maybe I just imagined it. That my brain had turned you into some kind of impossible standard. But nope. No exaggeration. No false memories. You’re just actually that good.

” I let out a breathy chuckle. “I swear, I gave other guys a fair chance. Really, I did. But do you know how hard it is to enjoy sex when you’re constantly thinking, ‘Wow, this guy is trying his best, but he’s just not him? ’”

After a beat of silence, Luca ended the call.

No explanation. Just hung up.

His phone hit the counter with a dull thud, and he looked at me.

Dead-on, unblinking.

No smirk. No sharp remark. Just silence.

Which—fine.

Maybe he was just trying to keep his cool. Maybe he was secretly dying inside, barely restraining himself from flipping me onto my back and proving me right all over again.

Or maybe…

Maybe I had just made a complete fucking idiot out of myself.

Because who the fuck was I talking to?

Luca Abruzzo.

Who could walk into any room and have his pick of willing, eager, desperate women. Women who probably did things I had never even heard of.

A man who had probably fucked more women than I could count.

A man for whom women weren’t memorable.

And I had just admitted to twelve years of not getting over it, over him.

Judging by the way his eyes were burning into mine, he realized it too .

My stomach dropped.

Oh fuck.

No.

No, no, no, no, no.

A slow, unbearable heat crept up my neck.

I forced a laugh, backpedaling like my life depended on it. “I mean… it wasn’t, like, life-changing or anything! Ha! Let’s not get carried away.”

Silence.

Painful, deafening silence.

I gestured wildly. “Because I don’t care. I’m not still thinking about this years later.”

Nothing.

No reaction.

“And for the record, I was definitely not in love with you. So don’t even ask.” I forced out another laugh.

More silence.

More suffocating, very bad, extremely mortifying silence.

My mouth opened, then shut. Opened again.

Nope. Nothing good was going to come out of it.

And just like that, my fight-or-flight response finally chose flight .

“Anyway, I’m gonna go—uh—wash my face.”

I turned so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash and bolted. Straight down the hall, straight upstairs into the bedroom, straight into the safest, darkest space I could find. Into the closet.

Perfect.

Maybe if I stayed here long enough, I’d just disappear into another dimension. Or better yet, maybe Luca would conveniently forget the most humiliating fucking moment of my entire life.

Yeah. That seemed realistic.

Then —

Footsteps.

Slow. Steady. Deliberate.

Coming straight for me.

I pressed my back against the wall, heart pounding, chest rising and falling too fast.

The bedroom door clicked shut.

More footsteps.

And then, in the most obnoxiously smug tone imaginable, “How is my favorite closet goblin doing in there?”

I was one second away from crawling under the nearest piece of furniture and staying there forever. Mind screaming at me to pretend none of this was happening.

Yeah, denial. That’s the move.

I wasn’t hiding.

I wasn’t running.

I wasn’t unraveling at the seams.

No.

I was simply… taking off my dress.

Like a perfectly normal person who had not just accidentally confessed to twelve years of unresolved feelings, and was trying to divert his attention by walking out in lingerie.

Avoiding his gaze in the mirror, I yanked down the zipper, shimmied out of the tangled mess of fabric, and kicked it aside like it had personally betrayed me.

Outside, Luca chuckled. Chuckled.

I dragged a hand through my hair, inhaled slowly, scraped together the last remnants of my dignity, and stepped out of the wardrobe.